Befriending the Flow
The force of the rushing water was pushing against my legs. I stood in the creek and allowed my body to feel the strength of the flow, the pressure somehow comforting instead of frightening. I’ve had a ‘thing’ with fast-moving water for many years. It’s a control thing…you know…I can’t stop the flow of water pushing me, pushing anything in its path. I don’t know when it started but it really amped up when I was learning to cave dive in the high-flow caves of north Florida.
I wish I could admit to liking that flow but really the only time I did was when the dive was turned and the flow carried me back, effortlessly back to calmer waters, a safety stop and then the surface.
My former spouse signed me up for a swiftwater rescue training he was assisting with several years ago. I learned a lot but still found the flow intimidating. The swims we did were just above a nasty little rapid and every time we crossed I feared being swept off my feet and going through that washing machine of foamy water. Helmet, dry suit and PFD were all secure but it still scared me. And then I hurt myself by leaping into the water and knocking the living life out of my femur…I thought I had broken my leg it hurt so bad but it benched me and who could argue with that?
Swift water…running water…rushing water…white water. White from the turbulence of air mixed with water as it slams into rocks. You cannot fight it. You just can’t. I guess it’s like life. You can’t fight the flow of life.
So learning to fly fish here in the Smoky Mountains is giving me opportunity to really embrace the flow and stand in it and with it and even sit in it.
Waders make wading in these cold streams comfortable but they also create a lot of drag and resistance. A wading staff makes it so much easier. Having something to lean on that supports me as I step over and around slippery rocks is vital. Every time I pick up my foot in knee-deep water the current tries to take it. But I’ve gotten used to the sensation.
Yesterday found me at ease in the flow…comfortable and making friends with the water that was rushing past. Last week that same creek took my wading staff but also returned it after I spent two hours fishing and learning to trust the creek, trust myself. After fishing I walked downstream and it was waiting for me, pushed up against the shore.
I’ve called these trout my Jedi masters as they teach me about their wisdom, the water, the insects but mostly about myself.
As that flow pushed against me yesterday I stood in open acceptance of it. I found stillness within and went into a meditative state of Oneness with the water, trees, trout, rocks, chilly air. Everything else faded as I walked deeper into the creek, the forest and my own depths.
Learning what we have control of and what we don’t have control of is part of the process of healing as a human being. Learning to accept the things I cannot change, change the things I can and the wisdom to know the difference….the Serenity Prayer. I cannot change the flow of the river but I can learn how to navigate it and little-by-little befriend that precious, life-giving flow.
While fly fishing yesterday I had one hard strike that made me squeal but not one other nibble…so of course I’ll return again and again to learn from those Jedi Trout. I’m so grateful they called me to the water. I’m making progress fly fishing and in navigating our beautiful creeks and rivers…today while using my housing I actually sat down in the flow and held my housing in a little rapid. I’m not sure I’ve ever felt so peaceful. The flowing water showed me just how beautiful it really is…when I stop trying to fight it.
Just a shout out to Miss Mayfly Waders…they are amazing and come in sizes to fit different women’s body types. I am so happy to have them in my adventure kit.
Standing beside the rushing water I think of the white sands along the Gulf Coast, knowing they came from here in the Appalachian Mountains. The cold, clear water leaps and pushes down, down, down from its source. I attach a thought of love for sea turtles to the water molecules as they tumble toward the Gulf and know that someday those water molecules will reach sea turtles and deliver the thought. And then I ponder the connection we all have with each other, with Source. There is only separation when we imagine it to be so and even then we exist in Oneness whether we believe it or not. Whether we are even aware or not.
The Tuckaseegee River winds around daily life and is the central river upon which each day flows. It begins in Jackson County above Cullowhee and flows northwesterly into Swain County where it joins the Oconaluftee River before heading through the center of Bryson City. It then enters Fontana Lake then the Little Tennessee River which flows into the Ohio River and finally the Mississippi River…and then the Gulf of Mexico.
The facility where I work is on the bank of the Oconaluftee River. During my breaks I walk along the sidewalk in Cherokee and connect with this beautiful river. It begins as several small creeks join near Newfound Gap and this stream flows south along the base of Mount Kephart. It converges with Kephart Prong, Kanati Fork and Smith Branch to form the Oconaluftee River. It flows south cutting a valley and strengthens when Bradley Fork at Smokemont adds to its flow. It continues its flow along the national park boundary and flows through Cherokee and finally joins the Tuckaseegee River.
And even the mountain on which I live has a small branch that trickles along the gravel road. Buddy and I have been exploring a bit and find it especially lovely and delightful.
I feel the connection of water through us all, through all landscapes…through all life. It is life-giving, vital to survival.
One of my favorite quotes is by John O’Donohue: I would love to live like a river flows, carried by the surprise of its own unfolding.